


Anamanaguchi

by AnonymousHeavyIndustries



Series: Unlimited Tentacle Works [2]
Category: Free!
Genre: Anal, Drugs, Large insertions, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mind Break, Nakadashi, Other, Slime, Stomach Deformation, Tentacle Monster - Freeform, Tentacle Romance, Tentacles, all the way through
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 13:00:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5335052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousHeavyIndustries/pseuds/AnonymousHeavyIndustries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haru is frustrated that Makoto doesn't understand his feelings about the water and tries to find a way in which he can express them. Makoto realizes just how much that the things Haru says about it scares him sometimes.</p><p>[Stand-alone story in UTW series, reading the previous work is not necessary.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anamanaguchi

It was in the sweltering hot summer break before freshman year of high school that Haru realized something was off.

There was a text on his phone when he woke up, sent late the previous night. It was from Makoto, as if it could've been from anyone else. The message was a short reminder of their plans for the day: an afternoon at the ocean, then supper and moongazing at Haru's place. Haru stared out his window at the warming blue-gray dawn. In about fourteen hours time there'd be a total lunar eclipse replacing the spot in the sky the sun was creeping towards. Neither of them had ever seen one before, but Makoto seemed set on the notion that seeing it would change their lives. It sounded idiotic to Haru, but if it made Makoto happy, he wouldn't voice that opinion out loud.

Haru ran through his usual morning routine, finishing up by climbing into his tub and sinking up to his eyes. Thoughts flitted across his conscious mind, dancing through sensitive topics with Basque steps. Nothing special. They retreaded the same melancholy tracks that had been worn into his brain too deep for an easy patch and forget job. Rin, swimming, the future. They tied into one another so closely that thinking of one led to the other two without fail and he always found himself caught in an endless loop that crowded his head with noise that grew louder and more insistent with each repetition. Rin, swimming, the future. Rin swimming the future. Rinswimfuture. Pinching his nose shut, he submerged himself completely. It dulled the noise but didn't drive it off like other waters did. Though he loved his tub, it was too tame to help him the way he needed most.

When Makoto came to fetch him, he felt the inexplicable urge to pull him into the tub and hold him down. Makoto would thrash and reject it to start with, his irrational fears overwhelming his receptiveness to the truth. Over time his limbs would go slack and he would be trapped within his mind, unable to escape. Knowing him, he'd probably be tormenting himself for failing his family and not being strong enough to communicate with such simple water. And when his eyes closed, when the struggle ended for real, then Haru could breathe life back into him and Makoto would understand. Makoto would thank him for bringing him enlightenment. What clarity almost drowning brought a body!

He tightened his grip on Makoto's wrist, but did not pull.

The bathtub was too small for such a powerful revelation. They needed a wilder, more savage source. He had to know truth in its rawest form.

He _would_ know it in its rawest form.

Mind roiling, Haru allowed Makoto to pull him out and they headed for the coast.

—

The instant Haru hit the ocean, he knew he was home. He drove himself as deep as his lungs could bear and listened to the noise clear from his mind. Whatever higher being had decided he was destined to be a land-dweller had played a cruel joke on him. He looked around for Makoto and did not see him. He was stuck on the shoreline, lagging behind as usual. No matter how much progress they made, he still feared the thing that Haru loved. Haru resented that fear sometimes, when his mood was low and it made him irritated at Makoto for being so... Makoto. He knew that they both belonged to the water, but Makoto couldn't see it. He refused to see it.

The noise began to surge up in his head again, buzzing with the need to make him understand. It was the gap between them that they could not bridge and he knew that if he never fixed that, then Makoto would decide that he didn't need him. Makoto would leave. His throat went cold as a bubble of nausea rose from his stomach. He could scarcely think of a time when they hadn't been together and it was nigh impossible for him to imagine a future where they didn't maintain the easy coexistence they had grown accustomed to. But at the same time he understood that people were supposed to flow in and out of each others lives like the turn of the tides, even in a sleepy town like this. People moved, friendships fell apart, times changed. Grandma left. His parents left. Rin left. Makoto alone remained, a zero constant that couldn't be derived away, and the longer he stayed, the more nervous it made Haru. He had to leave eventually. They couldn't really be together forever.

Shaking the thought out of his head, he waited for the loving bite he had craved for so passionately in his youth, expanding his consciousness to every passing current and turbulent whorl. Eyes were useless in this space, so he closed both them and the golden shutters of his second eyelid and soaked in the pitchest black until his rusty inner sight returned, illuminating the frenzied swell of life thrumming around him. He let go of his earthly form, slackening his muscles until they were mere extensions of the water around him. He drifted through the river of life, unafraid of the darkness that surrounded it. It would take him where he needed to go.

The song began, equal measures sparkling and joyous, wistful and slow, forever changing but always familiar. It was the same complex song the water whispered to him when he was younger and glutted himself with competitive swimming. He could neither memorize nor mimic it, only live it when he was submerged himself. When he was forced to make due with only his tub in the long winters, he pined for it as a man pined for a woman. He hated that Makoto couldn't hear it. He hated that someone so important to him was so depressingly mortal. If Makoto could experience the sublime world that laid before him now, then Haru could die happy. Invisible hands wrapped around the particles of the thing that occupied Haru's space, finally dragging him in with that savory bite he'd been searching for.

He wondered when he'd last gone up for air.

It didn't matter.

The water would take care of him.

Suddenly he was torn free from the gentle embrace, wrested from his trance and back into the mortal plane. As his sense of self returned, he found himself laying on the beach. Makoto was hunched over him, blocking out the sun. Tears spilled down his cheeks and pattered onto Haru. He waited for Makoto to realize he was awake.

"I thought you had drowned again!" Makoto sobbed, snot dripping down his lips. "You swam straight into a rip and let it take you out so far from the shore and then you disappeared and at first I thought you were diving, but you were under for so long and I got worried and, and—what were you thinking? You could've died!"

"Why did you pull me out?"

"What?"

"Did it occur to you that I didn't want you to get me?"

"What are you saying, Haru?" Makoto asked with a nervous, hiccuping laugh.

"I was becoming one with the water," Haru said without thinking about it. Outside of wanting to quiet his mind, his motives had been uncertain when he'd set foot in the waves, but now they were crystal clear. "I don't belong here."

"That's not true." Makoto wrung his hands, eyes darting like dragonflies as he hunted for the right thing to say. "You do belong here, Haru. There are a lot of people who love and care about you a lot. Are you worried about high school? Dad said it'll be just like middle school."

"It's not school."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." Haru pitied his friend for being so human. There was something cute about it and he almost gave him a reassuring pat on the head and a treat, but he figured that would've been too condescending.

"You know you can talk to me about anything, right?" Makoto squeezed Haru's hand. His fingers were clammy. It made Haru want to scream. "Was it something I did? Please talk to me."

"If I walked into the sea and never came back, would you follow me?" Haru didn't see the harm in asking.

"You're scaring me, Haru. Maybe we should go see the doctor? Or go home. Yeah, we'll go home. You'll feel better if you go home." Makoto was mostly mumbling to himself, his eyes flickering to and fro up the road. "Will you come home with me? We can talk there if that would make you feel more comfortable."

"You didn't answer my question. If I walked into the sea and never came back—"

"I would save you. I would always come to save you, every single time. You're one of the most important people in my life, I would never let you—" Makoto choked on the words he'd tried so hard to tiptoe around. "—hurt yourself."

"It wouldn't hurt me. The water and I understand each other. So it's okay."

"No, it's not okay! Stop it, Haru! Please, just stop. We need to go home." Makoto tried to get to his feet but collapsed back into the sand. He laughed at himself. "I'm pathetic. You need me and I'm—when I went in to get you while you were under, I was dragged under. It wasn't a rip current or a fish. The ocean was eating me."

"You fight it too much. The water will take care of you if you let it." Haru put a reluctant arm around Makoto's shoulder and wheezed when Makoto crushed him with a desperate counter-hug. He didn't think he'd make much progress on Makoto's understanding of the water today. "Let's go home. You can use my bath."

"Okay." Makoto buried his face in Haru's neck and refused to budge. 

Sighing, Haru picked up Makoto and began staggering back to his house. Diving had given him an unusual strength and though any other day he wouldn't have bothered attempting such a stunt, he felt confident that he could do it in that moment. Makoto started to protest, but Haru silenced him with a look. 

They went home that way, Haru still feeling the tug of the spring tides on his skin, drawing him to the ocean the way it drew the moon.

—

Talking was something that Haru had never been skilled in and he had little interest in improving his proficiency. What use was there for meaningless chatter? Words lacked their own power, depending on humans to interpret and assign value. They lied, obfuscated, twisted and squirmed like roundworms, suiting ideas as necessity deemed; they were nothing more two-faced scribbles that had too much stock placed in them. He could not stand them, yet Makoto insisted on using the clumsy abstractions whenever possible because he wasn't attuned to the ebb and flow of the world currents.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?"

They were under a sheet in Haru's sitting room at Makoto's behest. He had a lingering fondness of blanket and pillow forts that Haru didn't understand. Makoto was laying too close to him, but he could tolerate it long enough to clear up the misunderstanding.

"How long have you wanted to hurt yourself?"

Makoto's concern coiled around Haru, smothering him. He closed his eyes and to his surprise, the river of life materialized around him. His heart leapt with delight as he found Makoto's energy and shoved back tenfold.

"Do you have a plan?" Makoto pushed again, waves trembling with uncertainty. "Were you just going to walk into the ocean and let it take you?"

Haru directed the flow in ascending tori, conducting them with ease. Makoto would yield eventually.

"Please say something. I'm scared for you. I'm scared you're going to do something you can't take back." Makoto paused. "I think I understand what you're feeling a little bit. Remember how I was going to do that stupid thing a while ago and you stopped me? This is like that. And... Even if you don't feel comfortable telling me about what's going on in your life to make you feel like this, I swear that whatever it is is temporary. If you do decide to talk, I'll be here whenever you need me."

Haru spoke with slow deliberation. "It's not temporary. It will never be temporary. I don't belong here. I belong with the water."

Makoto flipped the sheet off himself. "I'm going to get some stuff from my house. Is it okay if I stay with you for a while?"

"Do what you want."

"Don't leave, I'll be right back." Makoto ran, leaving Haru bundled up in the sheet. 

Haru got up and headed for the bathroom. He filled the tub to the brim and climbed in, submerging himself. For a while he stared at the ceiling, wondering what Makoto could possibly fetch from his house to remedy the alleged suicidal urges he was feeling. The thought of him frantically packing a suitcase of cure alls made him smile to himself. Maybe he liked it more than he should, having someone doting over him and acting as his interpreter for the world, speaking the language he despised to the people he couldn't care less about. He wasn't an idiot and he didn't have corks for ears, so he was well aware that people didn't think highly of Makoto's role in his life. The kids called him names behind his back when he'd stopped trying to befriend people who couldn't tolerate Haru—tard wrangler, babysitter, mother hen—and the teachers complained about unhealthy codependency when they found out the hard way to not separate them unless absolutely necessary. Interpreter wasn't quite the right word for what he did though.

Caretaker. The word came to him suddenly, as if transmitted straight from the tub floor into his brain. That's what he was. Haru wondered how Makoto saw him in return. 'Friend' was what he said, but that sounded lacking. Brother, child, pet, all easy substitutions for 'friend'. But Makoto had put up with more than what Haru thought was more than necessary for the sake of a platonic relationship. If Makoto wasn't going to leave him, then there had to be a long-term plan. No one did that much for nothing.

The door slid open.

"Thank goodness." Makoto sighed with relief. "I kept calling and calling you and you didn't answer. I was worried you had gone back to the beach. I brought stuff for us to do."

When Haru took Makoto's hand and stepped out, he examined him in superhuman detail. The dull slant of his eyelids, the length of his fingers, the curves of his body from his lips to his hips, and the scent of saltwater that still clung to him in his hair. The way his chest rose in a sharp gasp. The way his ears went Deptford pink when he realized that Haru had, for once, stripped down to his bones to lounge in the bath and that he was in close quarters with him.

"You, uh... You were actually naked?" Makoto made an effort to stare at the wall. "I'm sorry, I should've waited for you to, I mean I was worried, but—"

"Do you love me?"

"What?" Makoto yelped, the rest of his face flushing to match his ears. "Of course I do, you're my best friend. You're like a brother to me."

"Not like that." 

Haru stepped out of the tub and pressed his wet body against Makoto, soaking his clothes. He switched his vision, tugging at the currents of energy around them, reaching deep into the tightly woven mesh of Makoto's being, slipping his fingers into a snarl tucked in the crevice between his abs and pulling him closer. The more he teased the knot, the more the space around it unraveled, coming out in heaps of fine gold thread that he snared his fingers deeper in, pulling harder, tighter. The truth was in there somewhere, if only he could dig it out.

"What are you doing?" Makoto gripped at Haru's hands, which were unzipping his fly. "Stop it! Please, stop it!"

Makoto's daks fell to the floor and Haru buried his arms deeper into the energy, digging in up to his elbows. He hooked his thumbs into Makoto's trunks.

"Stop it!" Makoto shoved Haru, sending him tumbling back into the tub.

Haru sat up, frustrated that he couldn't read what Makoto wanted. He had started respooling himself already. The threads dropped away from Haru's arms as he leaned back, watching Makoto grab his clothes and retreat to the door.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. I'll be in the front room whenever you're ready. Sorry."

Haru resubmerged and brought himself deeper in the life river than he'd gone before. If Makoto could see this, could communicate without the lies of words and movement, then figuring out what it would take to make him stay wouldn't be so difficult. Haru observed his energy form and noticed something different about it. Near where he perceived his human core he saw a tab of swirling energy that stuck out like a pill on a shirt run through a dryer too many times. He pulled on it and it came away freely, flowing smooth between his astral fingers. The more he pulled, the faster it came undone and he lost track of time as he pulled on the line, which seemed as endless as the light he was suspended in. Reality distorted, his form loosening with each metre he unraveled and he felt his already weak attachment to his body being torn out. The waters swelled stronger around him, shining brighter as he found himself seized in bizarre euphoia and he pulled faster faster faster fasterfasterfaster until there was nothing left to pull and he had undone himself completely. The water took him in his entirety, stretching his vortices until the cords of his matter were so looptangled that he could no longer keep track of it all and he was happy to surrender the dreary obligation of maintaining a consistent form.

The water spoke to him. It spoke in the roar of the ocean and the burble of humble creeks. It spoke in waves and pulses and eddies. He had a purpose greater than the one the humans had ascribed to him. He was not a future Olympian. He was neither an athlete nor a casual swimmer. He was a conqueror, a prehistoric god, and his awakening was overdue. The waters pledged loyalty to him and ushered him back to reality. He awoke in the tub, uncertain of how long it'd been since Makoto had left him to his own devices. Climbing out was difficult; his consciousness was everywhere at once and so was his body. He rolled across the floor to check the mirror, stretching to examine himself from different angles. He could feel his form, but he wanted to know what the humans would see and found he approved. He slithered out of the room, seeking Makoto's impression of his newfound destiny, leaving trails of brine in his wake.

Makoto was having a bit of fruit in the sitting room, fidgeting and checking his watch, doubtless waiting for him to emerge from the bath. Haru piled himself up to a semi-human shape and walked unsteadily towards him on gelatinous feet. He knelt behind him, resting the crude hands he'd constructed on Makoto's shoulders.

"I'm really sorry about how I acted back there, Haru. I didn't know you felt like that about me and I guess I was surprised. I hope you'll forgive me."

Quivering with the strain of remaining in this unnatural form, Haru wrapped his arms around Makoto's neck and leaned into his back.

"You're really wet. Did you forget to towel off? Or is this my punishment for pushing you?" Makoto laughed and patted Haru on his arm. "What did you want for—"

The moment Makoto turned to face him, Haru's human form collapsed and exposed the exquisite simplicity of his true body. Haru felt the screams more than he heard them, felt the thunder of Makoto's feet on the floor as he made a break for the door. He was dumbfounded. Makoto was running away. Makoto had never run away from him before, not like this. Without him, what was there left? 

Ushering strings of thoughtmuscle into action, he surged forward in a rolling wave, flailing his whip-arms in a mute plea. _Stay_ , they begged, lashing themselves around Makoto's ankles, yanking him off his feet. _Stay_ , they begged as he reeled his screaming caretaker in. _Stay,_ they begged as Makoto tore gouges in the floor with his nails. He had to stop the screaming, had to make it so Makoto wouldn't leave him, couldn't leave him. They had committed to being together this long and they had to see through to the end. More tentacles sprouted from his shapeless back and wrapped around Makoto's wrists, prying up his hands so they couldn't offer further resistance. Haru turned him over onto his back and tried to comfort him so he could give a proper explanation. He hovered over Makoto's fragile human body, tugging at the threads of energy around him, trying to figure out how best to communicate now that lying words were lost to his tongue.

"Please don't hurt me," Makoto whispered.

The thought was beyond Haru's capabilities. He formed a facsimile of a hand and caressed Makoto's cheek. Makoto whimpered and whined like a kicked puppy beneath him, but Haru kept conjuring hands and petting him with as many as he could keep track of and after a while, Makoto went quiet.

"Are you an alien? A monster? A science experiment?"

Haru gave a lopsided shrug. He wasn't sure what he was, other than something from before the age of humans.

"Are you... Haru?"

Haru pressed one of his many hands to his central mass and bobbed.

"Have you always been like this? When are you going to turn back? Can you turn back?"

Frustrated with the slow progression of the conversation, Haru twisted a slimy chunk off his body and shaped it into a slug that he pressed to the side of Makoto's head. It slithered into his ear canal, compressing itself to fit through the narrow crevices, and journeyed to Makoto's brain. The slug folded itself into the creases of his gray matter, squiggling and squirming as it settled into its new home. Shivers overran Makoto's body at the invasion. The human aspect of Haru knew the experience had to be unpleasant, but it was necessary to ease their communication.

"Haru?" Fear edged back into Makoto's voice. "What did you do? You are Haru, right?"

Some part of Haru knew that—if he so desired—he could snare Makoto in his thrall and utterly enslave his mind. But he liked Makoto. So he let his mind remain unmolested and instead flooded him with images of the hidden depths of the sea, beyond where the sun could reach, beyond the spew of the thermal vents, beyond where any human concept of life could exist and once they'd reached that point, they went deeper still. Haru dragged him down into the belly of a submerged volcano, the place where the old-blood in him had dreamed of the world he would create for many long centuries. The heat was agonizing, almost unbearable. It felt as if cat tongues were scraping flames across his body. A lesser being could not have survived it; their cells would boil, their DNA would untangle, and their form would have been rendered useless. They were close to the molten core of the earth, but they were not alone in the crater. Others like Haru shifted in tangled heaps so tightly wound that one could scarcely tell where one creature began and another ended. Countless bodies swarmed over them, welcoming them home and dragging them into the heart of the fold. They sank deeper, deeper. The initial shock of the heat subsided as they swam between the coils of the other creatures and it seemed there was no end to their descent. Somewhere above them, one of Haru's kin started to speak in infrasonic song. Soon the song echoed down to their position and Haru began to hum in kind, his molecules vibrating with the hypnotic intonations. There was no light. There was no thought. There was no pain or hope or fear. There was nothing but the hum of the deep and the unending caress of amorphous bodies.

For a long time the two of them laid there, not breathing, not moving, only humming. The water went silent again. Slowly they began to ascend, twisting past their brethren and leaving the volcano behind for colder waters that stretched pitch-black pathways in every direction. Makoto found himself longing to return to the warmth and camaraderie they had forsaken for the loneliness of the near deep. There was life here, illuminating the dark in their own ways, but it wasn't the same. They rose further into murky twilight blue and clearer waters past that. Schools of fish shining like silver pieces darted the other way as Haru's tentacles propelled them upward. Turtles, dolphins, and whales likewise turned tail when faced with his evolutionary splendor. They were insignificant vermin of the sea that knew their place.

When they broke the surface far from any coastlines, they were greeted by the overwhelming vastness of the cosmos, painted in galactic blues and purples and speckled with more stars than Makoto could ever hope to count. The waves rolled through them, transmitting this moment to every corner of the earth, letting their presence be known to the fishermen's ships, the migrating birds, the reflection of the stars, and every cricket in the dune-grass. Makoto did not think he had truly seen the sky before this and wondered if he would ever see it again. Tears streamed unbidden down his face as he suffocated under the immense weight of the universe he lived in. A feeling stirred in his chest, arching like a wave reaching for its peak. It climbed and climbed and then hung, locking him in suspense, making him long for it to crash down around him and tear his mind away with it. It was awesome in the archaic sense of the word, lifting him to dizzying heights and and drowning him simultaneously, mingling in a sweet pain that only the flow of his tears alleviated. He turned to Haru, struggling to find words to express himself. Haru cradled him close and rocked him in slow, sweeping swings, letting his human enjoy the splendor of their world. Lessons about the life river and waves could come later. For now, holding him like this was enough.

Outside of his mind, Makoto opened his eyes. Thick blue slime surrounded him, invading his ears, nose, and mouth. He was suspended in Haru's body. The outside world was foggy in his vision and the noises muffled. The only thing he could hear clearly was the beating of his heart. For a moment he was in a blissful state that had been forgotten by man, the peace of being settled in the womb. Then he realized he wasn't breathing and began to struggle. Haru ejected him from his body and laid him on the ground, smoothing his hair with a gooey hand.

_I breathe for you._

Makoto didn't know where the voice came from, but it was comforting in its familiarity. He made a questioning noise at the slime.

_When you're inside me, I breathe for you._

Makoto pressed his hand to his chest. He didn't feel worse for the wear even though he'd probably swallowed half a litre of slime while he was unconscious.

_Did you like it?_

The wavy feeling rose up inside Makoto again. His words flowed out before he could stop himself. "I love you."

Haru surged over Makoto, tangling their limbs together. Makoto wrapped his legs around the slime, squeezing him with his powerful thighs. His clothes were torn from his body and he didn't care what happened to them, didn't care what happened to him as long as he could be with Haru. He prayed the name of his faceless god and kissed his wet, briney flesh. Something thick and slimy pushed between his lips, spitting a slick semi-sweet fluid into his mouth that sent Makoto's temperature skyrocketing.

"Love me... love me..." Makoto sunk his claws into Haru's back, eyes hazy as the juice in his mouth trickled down his throat.

Haru sent a probing tentacle towards the pungent crevice of Makoto's ass. His hole was bitter with assfunk and salty with sweat, but he spent his sweet time cleaning it up with a few laps of a makeshift tongue. Makoto's toes curled in the air around Haru's continuously transforming bulk, arching his back as Haru sucked his anus until it was plump and rosy with attention. Slippery threads of precum dripped from Makoto's cock as he was stimulated from head to toe. Haru was everywhere, consuming his everything and he loved it, longed for it. Kissing his chapped lips, caressing his naked skin with millions of miniscule hands, sucking his soft pink nipples erect, stroking his thighs and ass, endless sensation, limitless pleasure, neverending, never stopping to let him catch a breath.

"Love me, Haru!" Makoto gasped, breathless and dizzy.

The wavy feeling was building, arcing higher and higher and higher than it had before, scrambling skyward as Haru played ring-around-the-asshole with the tip of one of his tentacles, secreting more fluids to make his entrance easier. There was a moment when the world froze. They breathed in unison. Haru thrust forward.

The wave came crashing down around Makoto's head, plunging him into the coldest, darkest waters in the world, plummeting deeper, deeper and yet ascending higher than heaven. His guts spewed out through his cock, shooting sticky white into the blue like glazing on Jell-O. He sobbed, seeing stars as Haru gobbled up his cum with great pulling slurps of a fresh arm and kept on pounding into him with the steady force of waves crashing into rocky cliffs. His human bodily limits protested, cock painfully sensitive and aching, but Haru tore them down, contracting tighter around him.

"Don't stop. Give me your everything." Makoto knew he would never want for anything else outside of the pulse of Haru's body against him again. And Haru, given a direct link into his caretaker's subconscious through the slug, knew the same.

They switched positions and Makoto straddled the reclining blob. Haru gave him a helping hand with an endearing approximation of a human penis that Makoto gave a crooked smile at before sinking down onto it. His muscular thighs bulged with unexpected strain as he rode the slime. He swept his hair out of his eyes with the heel of his hand, trailing his fingers back through the sextangle that it had twined into. Haru remained beneath him, constantly shifting and transforming, an organic machine made for fucking. Countless tentacles reached up and resumed the sweet torment they'd given him before. They plucked at his skin, infiltrated his nervous system, and wreaked havoc on his most sensitive bits of flesh. 

Haru had become fascinated with the reactions he was able to elicit from Makoto and tried winding the tentacle acting as his dick further into him, curling around a few bends to run the full route of the large intestine. There were no complaints about that as far as he could tell, so he burrowed deeper, wriggling into the much narrower tube of his slippery brown-pink small intestine. Fine microvilli brushed against his tentacle, doing little to impeded his process into the upper small intestine. He finally found resistance in the pyloric sphincter, which was on tight lockdown. Makoto groaned with the faint pain of Haru narrowing his tendril and wriggling through. Haru paid no mind to the sting of stomach acid on his slimy limb, instead adjusting his pH to neutralize it.

Makoto looked down at his protruding belly and rubbed it, feeling the tentacle writhing in his gut like a massive parasitic worm and found the idea that his lover could explore him so intimately gave him a sick arousal. Haru spooled more spare mass in Makoto's stomach and coiled up into his throat, using the curvatures in his esophagus like ladder rungs to claw his way into Makoto's mouth. Once he broke past Makoto's lips, he waved at the human as if to boast of his accomplishment. He zipped into Makoto's ear and out the other side to give him another wave, finding immense delight in navigating the tricky system. Somehow he didn't think Makoto found it as amusing as he did, so he reeled his tentacle in lightning-quick, zooming through his GI tract until he was back where he began in the dank depths of Makoto's lower intestine. He pumped more goo into that arm, expanding it with an explosive burst. It ballooned outward, pressing a hard knot into Makoto's prostate. Haru worked the spot with a tranquil fury, transforming the texture of his arm at his leisure to add new dimensions to the game.

Makoto felt his knees give underneath him and he was rendered a useless slab of pleasure, sobbing Haru's name as his body pitched back and forth atop the rippling monster. He knew he could never enjoy sex with another human again and he didn't mind. He'd sacrifice his life a thousand times to live out this fantasy. He tried to praise Haru, show his appreciation, beg for more, anything, but when he spoke all that came out was idiotic gibberish that even the Pentagon's top cryptologists couldn't crack. His tongue was swollen fat and stupid like his cock. Everything Haru touched became part of his dominion and he was a cruel but kind ruler, mining every ounce of pleasure possible from Makoto's flesh and digging deeper yet once he thought it spent, finding new veins of sexual ore in the most unlikely places. Between his toes, up his nose, in the crease between his elbow and forearm, everything, absolutely everything Haru touched was an erogenous zone under the ministrations of his tentacles. His whole body became a giant, oversensitive penis ready to burst at a second's notice.

Feeling neglected, the brainslug began plugging into the microscopic network ports of Makoto's brain and lit it up with pure electricity, stimulating the pleasure center. Makoto's squeals rose half an octave as Haru assaulted the last bastion of his being, toying with the sparkfire connections of his mind. Stars and moons from distant galaxies collided within the confines of Makoto's head, a blinding fireworks show of thoughtmotionsound. Drool rolled down his spasming lips in rivers and his eyes rolled back to expose their whites. Pain seared his left side, but he was too busy drowning in inhuman ecstasy to notice until he felt his heart stutter then fail. The pump shut down, unable to process the vast amount of exertion its host was undergoing. Makoto giggled as blackness devoured his vision, gasping for breath with his exhausted lungs. Being fucked to death was okay as long as it was Haru doing it. His dying body slackened atop the monster.

Haru reached inside his flesh and bones, coiling arms around his heart and squeezed it, jolting it back into activity. Likewise he constructed a crude ventilator to keep him breathing, still relentless in his assault on Makoto's mind. He was a god and this was solid proof, this human he could make and unmake at his will. He could untangle the threads of Makoto's memory and weave them into a shape of his pleasing, he could make him believe that he was a dog or a little girl or anything else he pleased. He could liberate him from his human body, dive into the river of life and shred the useless connection to that inferior form and reassemble him into a shape of his choosing. He could make him into one of his kind. And it was mighty tempting. Makoto was practically begging for it. Haru had never craved for anything else so badly. Not limited edition Loosejaw merchandise, not mackerel, not even the bite of water on his skin. He had the power to do it. His second sight was on full blast and he could see the seams he'd have to slice to free him. It would be a simple task.

"I'm all yours, Haru. Always yours, no matter what. You can do whatever you want!" Makoto gasped around the tendrils in his mouth, sending fresh rivulets of spittle coursing down the sides of his chin. Their link was deep enough that Haru didn't have to express his desire.

The voice of his shrewd, craven core egged him on. No better time than now, it assured him. He'd wanted explicit permission to fulfill his desires and he'd gotten it. The nobler part of him thought it was a repulsive display of manipulation and Haru had long detested deception and subterfuge. Makoto wasn't in a clear enough mental state to give what he'd said he was willing to. But what would change even if Makoto wasn't blitzed on sex? When Haru found a way to make his true form mimic his human identity better, he could teach Makoto how to make the transition and Makoto could go about his daily life as he had before. There was no need to worry about alienating friends or family if he could wear that useless flesh sack. Unwinding him now gave them plenty of time to experiment with the potential of their superior bodies. 

Yes, unwinding him now was the best plan of action. But before that, he had one last thing to do.

Makoto teetered at the edge of insanity, caught on a nanotube between monstrous rapture and agonizing mindbreak the likes of which the world had never seen. He had surrendered complete control of his body to Haru, who was holding him prisoner in this wavy moment, rising past the point of fear and reason, breaking past any sensible peak without the mercy of crashing down and sweeping him away in dizzying undercurrents. Haru had placed some sort of lock on his brain, preventing him from escaping this infernal torment. No matter how high he climbed, how far Haru propelled him with the undulations of his tentacles, he wasn't permitted to bring himself to completion. He slobbered out increasingly incoherent requests for relief, wondering how much more his pathetic human mind could take before shattering apart. Haru made him breathe. Haru kept his heart beating. But he wouldn't slake his thirst for satisfaction. Makoto realized he was chasing after stars he couldn't reach. 

The strain was too much. He felt the first splinterings of his psyche as a physical pain, nestled deep within the folds of his brain. His thoughts flashed to his siblings, his family, his friends at school. Would they still love him when he was a vegetable? Would they still stay by his side when he was strapped into machines for the rest of his life? He hoped so.

One final tear slipped out of its overworked duct as he surrendered himself to his inevitable fate.

Seizing the moment, Haru released the lock and everything came tumbling down tumbling down tumbling down. Frantic spasms filled Makoto's whole being, fingers snarling and stretching feet stamping like a rabbit back hunching and snapping head twisting at unhealthy angles jaw dislocating with a great crunch body thrashing twisting scrunching up spreading out shaking shaking endless shaking and twitching his heart went out again he lost his breath but not his consciousness, Haru wouldn't let him miss a second of this, clawing at his electrified skin screaming screaming screaming his throat bloody moaning shuddering sobbing begging gurgling in snot spit and slime sweat pouring down his flesh in fat beads cum shooting shooting shooting squirting creaming hips fucking biting his tongue until it bled not caring letting blood and drool dribble from his mouth with each rapid-fire shot of his cock obliterating another piece of his mind until he didn't know what day it was what year it was who he was only that he was in a state of pleasure so intense that it would be his undoing screaming thumping feet fucking himself harder on Haru's tentadick as it flooded his useless human guts with his breederjuice feeling endless feeling fucking loving wanting matter become one melting into Haru's abstract body orgasms smashing into him one after another until he was blind deaf numb to everything but the explosive highs and he never ever ever wanted anything else, never wanted anything but to be Haru's sex toy for the rest of time.

And when Haru watched Makoto lose his mind atop him, he decided that he didn't mind waiting on the transformation. There was something nice about how perfectly the human responded to him. When Makoto stopped moving, almost dead and barely conscious, Haru tallied up his first follower. He set to nursing him, fixing his jaw, rehydrating him, and patching the rips in his mental fabric. He even gave him a bath, though he thought this Makoto, covered in blood, sweat, tears, and sperm, was quite appealing to his sensory organs. He put him in a yukata and set him on the porch to sleep for a while, leaving the brainslug in charge of other necessary repairs while he fixed them some watermelon.

When he settled on the porch, Makoto was awake but groggy. Haru fed him pieces of watermelon by hand, feeling a deep-rooted satisfaction whenever Makoto reached the end of a chunk and suckled on his tentacle in adoration. It made him want to fuck him again, but he knew that Makoto's body was in too delicate of a state to handle anything else that night. Had he transformed Makoto he wouldn't have to worry about such trivialities, but part of him savored the restraint he needed to handle the fragile little human. They sat that way for a long while, waiting for the lunar eclipse to rise into view. Watermelon juice laid on Makoto's lips in a stickysweet gloss and Haru could not help laying a tentacled protrusion onto them to suck it up. Makoto kissed him back without shame. Their worlds finally aligned and they returned their attention to the red moon. Haru basked in its light while Makoto stargazed in his lap and he realized that he'd been wrong about one fundamental aspect of their relationship. Makoto wasn't the caretaker. He was, sworn to protect Makoto from the humans they would soon conquer.

He outlined a clear plan of action: assemble the old relay team and draft them into the cause. Once he had done that, the sleepers in the deep would awake and unite and they would become kings of the post-human civilization. After that, perhaps another land, another galaxy. It seemed feasible, almost necessary even though he wasn't sure of the specifics of how they'd accomplish that yet. He was unconcerned about complications or retaliations. There was nothing left to fear.

Because when he walked into the sea, Makoto would follow.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally completed on 28 March 2015 and edited for the AO3 release. A prequel to Tentacle Reipe that's meant to be read after Reipe, hence why they've been posted in this order. As noted in the summary, it's not necessary to read both.  
> \- 匿名重工業


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